


Dude, It's Beacon Hills

by NowThatWereDone



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Action & Romance, Alive Allison Argent, Canon Divergence, Fluff and Angst, Season 4 AU, Teen Wolf
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-09 17:51:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1992183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NowThatWereDone/pseuds/NowThatWereDone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just as the Pack recovers from the nogitsune's reign of terror and the Argents moving away, hell breaks loose once more in the form of Kate Argent, the Benefactor, and something mysterious happening to Danny as well as a new Beta. And while it all may seem too much for the McCall Pack, a familiar face reappears to help. But will it be enough to stop chaos from coming again? (or, what I wanted season 4 to be like, including Allison still here, more Danny, and an independent, BAMF Malia)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. After

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically what I wanted from Season 4, as while it's pretty good and creative I just don't... agree with some of it. And part of it's unavoidable since Crystal Reed is gone, but you know, what are you gonna do. Hope you enjoy!!

It’s after.

After the nogitsune had been sealed away, after Aiden had died. After Chris Argent decided to move his family to France after Allison’s near death. And Scott knows that this last bit of information shouldn’t hurt him so much, especially since, with the amount of death and loss in Beacon Hills, he should’ve been grateful that Allison had survived.

But as he sits—in his car, knowing he wouldn’t be able to confront her _now_ —watching as Stiles and Lydia and even Kira say goodbye to her and Chris, he can’t help but feel like he’s losing her anyway. Because last time she’d been to France, it was just a summer. Now… now he’s not so sure how long she’ll be gone, or if she’ll ever come back.

“ _I love you, Scott… Scott McCall._ ”

And then there was that. She’d said she’d loved him. Gave him her supposed last words. Not Isaac, who she’d nearly sacrificed herself for. _Him_. And while there was nothing but sincerity in her wide brown eyes as she hurriedly went through the things she felt she needed to say just in case, Scott now isn’t so sure she meant it.

So he sits. Doesn’t say goodbye. He figures it’s easier this way, easier for them to officially move on even if he isn’t sure he wants to. But maybe this move will be good for her. Maybe it will be good for him. Maybe it will help them clean their lives of the last few weeks, of possessed friends and electrocutions and torture. Scott lets out a sigh.

It’s after. After the nogitsune, after the final battle…

 _After Allison._  


	2. The Lakehouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a recap of sorts

It’s awkward. Scott can feel it. Kira can feel it. Heck, Liam could probably feel it and he was _unconscious._ But it’s been like that between Scott and Kira for a while now, as the two had been sort of skirting around where exactly their relationship stood. Because it’d been two months since the nogitsune, two months since…

Scott cringes. He’s not supposed to be thinking about _her_.

Kira notices Scott dip his head, presses her lips together for a moment before throwing caution to the wind and speaking up.

“Can you hear the music from the party?” For a second, Scott hesitates. Was Kira actually speaking to him? More than was necessary? She’s looking at him, eyes wide and expectant, so she must’ve been talking to him. Scott smiles a little, nervously.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, “they’re playing something electronic. You know, dance music.” Kira nods knowingly and another lapse of silence passes between them. Scott settles for watching Liam quietly while Kira sneaks peaks at him.

She likes Scott, she really does. And she’d actually kind of thought she’d had some sort of chance with him before all of this crazy drama started happening. Even now, as a single guy completely uninhibited by any ex-girlfriends, Kira isn’t sure he’s interested. Well, actually, she’s sure he’s interested. She’s just not sure if he’s interested _enough_. And she really, really wants him to be.

“I wish they still played slow songs at parties.” Scott sits up. Looks over at her curiously. Was she speaking to him _again_? What on earth was going on here? Was this some sort of trick Scott didn’t know about? But her face is nothing but genuine, and he already knows she’s not that good of a liar.

“Why do you wish that?” Scott asks.

“Well…” Kira shrugs. “I’m just better at slow dancing.” And maybe it’s the moonlight, or the bashful way she’s staring at the wood paneling, but something compels Scott to smile, really smile down at her.

“Do you want to dance with me?” Kira sits back in surprise.

“What? You want to dance? W-With me? Are you sure, I mean—”

“Kira.” She stares into Scott’s eyes, his brown eyes which make Kira feel warm inside, like she can trust Scott with her life. So she takes his outstretched hand and lets him pull her to her feet. As soon as he has his arms around her waist, Kira melts into him willingly, placing her head against his chest. Even if Scott’s just being nice, may as well savor the moment.

**

_In another part of the lake, a man is being beheaded._

**

Wine, as red as blood spills out on the floor and though Lydia has this strange sensation that bright crimson is supposed to mean something, her fear is drowned out by the absolute terror of something else in the lake house being damaged. Because she’s sure she can’t deal with that, not at all.

“No, no, _no_!” Lydia’s on her hands and knees, using her cardigan to wipe away the stains. Alas, this only makes it worse and Lydia can feel the fear building up inside of her. “Please, don’t do this,” she mutters at the dark liquid in vain, “please, please, no.”

The freshman she’d caught in the room is quick to comfort her, telling her not to worry, that he’d go find something to clean the carpet.

“It’s going to be okay,” he assures her. “It’s going to be okay, Lydia.” And maybe she’s just been waiting for someone to say that. Maybe she closes her eyes and repeats that sentence in her head after he leaves. Maybe she misses a time when people cared for her, a time when she had her best friend.

Maybe she misses—

“ _Allison._ ” It’s soft at first. Lydia almost doesn’t hear it. But then it comes a second time, and the strawberry blonde knows she isn’t hearing things. Well, she is. But this isn’t the ‘I’m-crazy’ hearing things. This is the ‘banshee-powers’ hearing things, as the usual sense of urgency is swirling in her gut.

 _Allison_.

There’s no denying it. When she closes the room door and turns on the record player, when she sees the faces pressing themselves against the stark white wall, mouths moving and sending shivers of fear down her spine, all Lydia can hear is that name, her name.

 _Allison_.

The key to the Vigenère Cipher? Yes, Lydia’s sure of that. But she also has an inkling of a feeling that the whispers mean something else. She closes her eyes, scrunching her face together as she tries decoding the hidden message and then—

Lydia gasps.

“ _Allison!_ ” And she runs out of the room as fast as she can.

**

_Malia buries her face in Stiles’s shoulder, unable to believe that he’d let her loose._

_“You’re such an idiot,” she murmurs between cries, “you’re such an_ idiot _.” When she really means ‘how could you trust me?’_

**

“So how are you so good at staying in control?” Scott opens his eyes to see Kira looking up at him. Their height difference isn’t as pronounced as it usually is as, that night, Kira had opted to wear a pair of heels.

“Well… I have a lot practice. All I have to do is make sure my pulse doesn’t get too fast.” Kira tilts her head.

“So you’re really focusing on that, huh?” Scott nods with a little smile. “Oh.” And then because _why not_ , Kira decides to ask, “so what if I distract you?”

“I’m indistracable.”

“Really.”

“ _Really_.” Kira’s willing to test this theory, propping herself a little bit higher on her toes. Scott leans in instinctively and just starts to close his eyes when he hears it. A growl. And it certainly hadn’t come from him. The two stop what they’re doing and look over in shock as Liam easily breaks through his restraints and runs out into the woods.


	3. Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the chapters will get longer, I promise.

Liam is fast, surprisingly so. Still, Scott keeps up with him. Kind of. As he runs through the forest (why does everywhere they go have to be dominated by trees), he realizes with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he doesn’t know where Liam had darted off to. It doesn’t help that Scott’s keeping his werewolf senses to a minimum to prevent losing control.

Just as he considers tapping into a little more of his wolf abilities, he feels a weight at his back and suddenly all Scott can smell is dead leaves and tree branches. And maybe some dog feces. The alpha starts to roll over, but before he can, Liam is throwing him against a tree, his eyes wild with rage, the rage only the full moon can bring out.

“This is your fault!” Liam cries, “this is _your fault_!” Scott flinches at the words. Knows it’s true. Maybe it’s the guilt that keeps him from reacting. Or maybe, deep down, Scott is actually a little bit afraid of Liam. Whatever the case, he doesn’t move as the young beta raises an arm, fingers curling into make-shift talons as if he were going to claw Scott’s throat out.

Scott doesn’t move.

(Maybe he even starts to close his eyes).

A flash.

Liam cries out and sprints off to avoid the new danger. No longer being held up, Scott tumbles to the ground, winces a little more when he opens his eyes to be greeted by the flashing of lights. He squints against the glare and struggles to see. And when he does see the familiar willowy figure approaching him, he’s sure it’s a trick and squints even more.

But there’s no mistaking it when she steps into the light, a hood pulled up as her dark hair spills out of it in long waves, her eyes shadowed but still very visible. There’s a crossbow in her hands, and that pretty much confirms any doubts in his mind. He can’t, however, keep the surprised gasp from escaping his lips:

“ _Allison_?” She kind of smiles a little, holds her cross bow up so it reflects the moonlight off of it and illuminates her face and in that moment, Scott can feel his heart pound just a little faster. He can’t say why for sure. The girl is both dangerous and beautiful. And, apparently, not impressed with him, as her movements are quick but business as she helps him get to his feet. “What are you doing here? How’d you know?”

“We got your text.” Allison gives a withering look as she says it, and Scott feels guilt once again dig into his heart.

“I, uh, I didn’t have money…” She shakes her head and brushes passed him, eyes scanning the surrounding area in quick, darting motions. Scott watches, not saying a word. Outwardly anyway. Internally, he’s suffering from a meltdown. An anxiety induced one.

“So. I guess you have a new werewolf on the loose?” She smiles, though there isn’t any humor in her eyes.

“I… it was an accident.”

“Right. Well, I set up a trap in the clearing. That’ll hold Liam until you can go over and corral him.” Scott blinks.

“I don’t know,” he begins, “I haven’t had much success at corralling him lately.” Allison shifts her weight and crosses her arms, a silent but well heard ‘ _go on_ ’. So he does. “He doesn’t listen to me. I’ve tried talking to him, like, a hundred times and—”

“Scott.” He stops his ramblings the moment she speaks up. She’s staring at him. While her expression is stony and somewhat emotionless, he can see a faint light of fondness in her eyes as she continues watching him, her gaze holding his face still. “Scott. Talk to him. Really talk to him, using your words. Yours.”

Scott looks away. Her words are deep. Inspiring. He opens his mouth to thank her, but when he looks back, she’s gone. Like a ghost, like she’d never even appeared to him in the first place. Scott bites his lips, unsure if he should pursue her or not.

Then he turns on his heels and runs for the clearing.

Because if Allison wants to play the part of the ghost, he won’t be the one to stop her.

 


	4. Deadpool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this is of lower quality, but I wanted to update for y'all.

The party is full of kids, and it’s hard for Lydia to see, but she keeps pushing through the crowd, keeps forcing her way through as she tries to find…

Allison?

But that’s impossible, and Lydia knows it. Allison’s in France, Allison’s gone. And she’s not coming back. But the feeling isn’t gone, she can still feel her heart racing as she forces her way into the throng of dancing bodies. It’s getting harder and harder to concentrate, as the mix of the blaring music and the whispers—whispers that were getting louder and louder—slowly drove Lydia insane.

If she wasn’t already crazy, that was.

“Allison,” she can’t help but call out the name. “ _Allison_.” No one notices Lydia’s cries. No one cares.

This is nothing new.

And then, in one last ditch effort, she lets out a shrill, “ _Allison!”_ One of the people in the crowd turns. Dark hair flies as the person’s eyes lock with Lydia’s, wide and unreadable. For a moment, neither of the two girls moves. Lydia’s sure she’s been frozen by the shock, her feet rooted into the floorboards.

Just as Allison takes a step forward, just as her lips start to form Lydia’s name, something pulls at the strawberry blonde once more. Something upstairs. The whispering. And Lydia wants to stay by Allison, she wants to hug her best friend.

But she can’t ignore the call.

She turns away from Allison’s welcoming gaze and goes back towards the stairs. Goes back to the silent room.

**

_It’s here she finds Kira looking for her, here Allison quickly follows after. Here when she types Allison’s name into the password slot, here where the list is decoded._

Sean Walcott – 250k

David Walcott - 250k

Michael Walcott - 250k

Christina Walcott - 250k

Lydia Martin - 20m

Scott McCall - 25m

Demarco Montana - 250k

Derek Hale - 15m

Carrie Hudson - 500k

Kayleen Bettcher - 250k

Kira Yukimura - 6m

Elias Town - 250k

**

"Why was my name the keyword?" Allison asks, guarded.

"I don't know," Lydia whispers. Because she doesn't.  _She doesn't know._ But she's going to find out. After she learns just why Allison came back to Beacon Hills in the first place. When Lydia asks, when Kira glances over with the same curiosity in her eyes, Allison's gaze drops.

"It's not important," Allison says. A lie. Lydia doesn't need banshee-intuition to know this. But she doesn't press, doesn't say anything.

She doesn't want Allison to disappear again.

And besides that, there's a dead pool-- one that the McCall pack managed to be featured on. 


	5. Walk

Deputy Parrish is something. He’s _something_. Lydia shakes her head slightly as she ponders the list of supernatural creatures she’s aware of, trying to peg something to him. Werewolf? No, he didn’t seem like a werewolf. And banshees were only female, or well, she _thinks_ they are. Druids… Lydia doesn’t know enough about them to tell if they even count as supernatural, let alone if Parrish could be one.

Hm…

“Lydia.” She jumps, not at all expecting someone to call out to her. When she looks, she’s surprised to see none other than Allison Argent, black clad and looking exceptionally dangerous. And tired. Really tired.

“Allison?” Lydia asks. “Where did you come from?”

“I was around. You shouldn’t be walking around at night.” Lydia smirks, though there’s no humor in her face.

“Why? Because it’s a dangerous world for a woman?”

“Because there’s a dead pool and you’re on it,” Allison deadpans. Oh. Right. Lydia looks away from her friend, eyes scanning the town she’s come to know very well over the past sixteen years.

“What are you doing here, Allison?” Lydia asks. Allison opens her mouth. “Aside from playing guard duty for me.” Allison hesitates.

“Someone tried to kill Scott today,” Allison murmurs quietly. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt my pack.” There’s truth to her words, and Lydia is sure that Allison is telling the truth. Or some of it. There’s still something in the way her eyes tighten around the edges, the way her shoulders hang heavily that implies there’s something more to it.

There’s always something more.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Lydia asks. Allison is quiet for a moment, pondering. It’s not that she doesn’t trust Lydia. Of course she does, this is her best friend. But…

Lydia was friends with Scott. Lydia was _pack_ with Scott. Anything she tells the strawberry blonde could easily find its way to Scott’s ears, and Allison is done being his damsel in distress.

“You have to promise to keep this a secret,” Allison says. Lydia looks to her expectantly. “I’m… hunting someone.”

“Hunting?” Lydia’s eyes widen. Allison nods. “Who?”

“Kate,” Allison answers simply, and it all makes sense. “If you tell Scott, he’ll try to help me. But I don’t need his help. I don’t want it.” And Lydia’s about to ask her about this new independence, but when she turns, Allison is gone.


	6. Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so as I'm writing this, I don't think Danny will be as big as I thought he was going to be. It's sticking a little closer to canon than I'd thought, so... it will probably start diverging more and more, however. And yay, an Allison centric chapter!! And it's longer, as I expect most of the chapters will be from now on.

She stumbles around for a while, her feet refusing to go where she’s intended them to. It hurts to walk, hurts even more to keep her body from hunching over too much, but she still tries to make it. Still tries to run.

The footsteps behind her are heavy and swift. Dangerous. Allison speeds up some more, a strike of pain lancing along her left shin. At this pathetic state, she’d probably be captured in one, maybe two, minutes. Allison can’t let that happen.

She swings around the nearest tree, circling the circumference as the giant beast runs passed. It skids to a stop, realizing his target had eluded him. By the time the creature, decked in some form of armor made entirely of bones and skin, turns around to face her, Allison has her bow out and ready, aiming a well-placed arrow right into the eye of the bear skull the creature wore.

Not enough to kill him, but enough to slow him down.

Allison pivots as the thing roars in rage, sprinting away as fast as she can. As she’s running, she can feel her phone vibrate on her hip. She doesn’t stop to check it, not when there’s a killer chasing after her. She already has an idea on who it could be.

It was probably Chris, who’d followed her to the States as soon as he realized his daughter made a break for California again. She’d basically been on the run from him ever since. But she _had_ to run from him, especially now.

Unlike Allison, Chris had taken the news of Kate’s supposed return quite lightly. Well, that was a relative term. Allison had started planning immediately for the two to return to America to hunt her down. Not because she really wanted to put down her own aunt, but because she had a feeling she knew how dangerous Kate would be now that she was a werewolf or whatever.

Chris… he’d been all for going back to Beacon Hills to confront Kate. However, he’d been planning on doing it alone. This obviously upset Allison, more so when she learned that Isaac had agreed to keep her from leaving France… as if he could. Isaac was a decent adversary, one Allison knew how to beat.

It also helped that he still harbored some feelings for her, and with a mild flirtatious threat, Isaac had decided he’d better let her go. And after breezing through the lives of her former pack, Allison had found Kate’s hideout and went for her.

Except Kate had been expecting this.

She’d been holed up in a corner, looking worse than Allison had ever seen her. Blonde hair framed the woman’s face like an untamable flame and her eyes were sunken. Probably due to fitful nights of sleep. Constant bloodlust tended to do that to a person. Her clothes were covered in blood and scratch marks and Allison had a feeling some of the crimson fluid that splattered Kate’s face was from self-inflicted wounds.

“Allison,” Kate had said her name in an almost loving fashion. It was… _hard_ to raise her weapon to her aunt. But it’d be even harder to try and speak to her, try and maintain the cool demeanor Allison had worked so hard at creating. Kate’s eyes had widened slightly at the bow and arrow, her body tightening. “Allison,” Kate said again, “you need to go. _Now_.”

“No.” Allison’s voice had sounded confident, unlike how she really felt. But she couldn’t focus on that, not with the way Kate was gritting her teeth to hold back a growl.

 “I don’t want to kill you.”

“You should’ve thought about that before murdering a whole family of innocent people!” Kate’s eyes were changing, shifting. Allison also noted that something was stirring in the background. Something big.

“I’m warning you, Allison,” Kate tried one last time. Allison pulled on her bow string. Let the arrow fly. And before it could even reach her destination, the Berserker had jumped out and started chasing her.

Which led to the current events; Allison running for her life.

It’s hard to keep a steady pace, though the pain is slightly alleviated when she reminds herself that certain death is imminent if she slows down. Being able to hear the vicious growls of the Berserker also helps her pick up the pace.

Allison doesn’t stop running until she gets to her car in the distance, it’s sleek black exterior throwing the moonlight just enough so she can make it out. Allison darts left and right before diving for the vehicle, smoothly sliding inside before roaring down the road, probably way over the limit.

She doesn’t slow, however, just lets her car take her further and further away from her attacker.

It’s a little while before she feels comfortable enough to pull over and get herself together. And by ‘get herself together’, Allison nearly suffers a breakdown. Tears stream the girl’s pale cheeks as she allows the pain to consume her. She grits her teeth; her body is aching in ways she can hardly describe and a splitting headache is pounding away at her cranium.

Lowering her head onto the steering wheel, Allison takes a few calming breaths in an effort to slow the tears. She can’t break apart, not now, not with Kate posing a danger to everyone she encounters. Not with her father trying to track her down. Not with a list of people whose lives are on the line.

_**_

_Scott sits, hearing his mother talk about bills they can’t pay. The money under his bed kind of calls to him, too._

_**_

Allison waits a while before starting her engine. Now, she drives slow, in a lurching fashion. Her eyes are half-lidded, scanning the road lethargically as her car limps along, imitating it’s driver. Tired, Allison is tired. She’s not sure if it’s more physical or mental.

It’s the tiredness that almost has her driving by the overturned car. It’s the tiredness that fuzzed out the other side of the road and nearly kept her from seeing it. But Allison is nothing if not observant and easily picks out the Sherriff’s uniform as she approaches the scene. Her heart lodges in her throat.

“Sheriff,” a panicked whisper slips passed her lip (Allison is too tired to keep up her fearless façade) and slams the breaks. Her car is hardly in park when the girl runs out of her car in time to see the sheriff roll over to look at her. Recognition and relief fills his sagging eyes.

“Al…” it’s all he can get out. The man instead motions further ahead, repeating the first syllable of Allison’s name. “Al…Sc…Sc…o..” She knows before he tells her. Allison hurries around the truck to see Scott lying flat on his back.

A berserker horn seems to sprout out of his torso and blood pools out. Her knees nearly buckle, but Allison isn’t the type to collapse in tears, not anymore. So she averts her eyes stubbornly— _she will not cry, she will not_ cry-- and continues to survey the scene. Another lies ahead of Scott. One of the orphans. Dead. Allison bites her lip, immediately reaching for her phone. The missed call is actually from Lydia, but Allison doesn’t call her back. Instead she dials a number she’d been avoiding.

He picks up after the first ring.

“Allison?”

“Dad.” She cringes at the weak tenure of her voice. “Dad, I need help.”


	7. Death

Allison is sitting on Lydia’s bed when the girl walks into her room, Stiles in tow. At first, Lydia assumes Allison is only here to look out for her. The haunted expression on her face implies otherwise.

“Allison?” Stiles blinks, his chin jutting forward in surprise. Right, he still hadn’t seen the huntress in town and, since he spent a great deal of his free time with Malia, Lydia never really had a chance to tell him. Not that his having a girlfriend was a _bad_ thing, Lydia tries convincing herself as she watches Allison pull her legs up under her.

“Hi.” Her greeting is light and a little friendly, much like the Allison Lydia had grown used to. But her expression, one trying so hard to harden and shield any emotion is not the Allison from before. This is a new one, one who learned a new way to cope with pain. Cope. Not hide.

“Allison,” Lydia begins, stepping forward, but Allison is already shaking her head.

“I’m fine,” she insists. “I just heard you guys are trying to find the third cipher key.” And that was really all she was going to get out of Allison. So Lydia decides to hurry to her computer and fire it up because they had a job to do.

“So the first two names were Allison and Aiden,” Stiles starts, leaning against the far wall.

“What’s the connection?” Allison asks.

“We’re not entirely sure,” Stiles admits, “but I was thinking this. Aiden died and you… well, you went through cardiac arrest, so technically you did die.”

“But Kira was able to start it again,” Allison says, “it was lucky but I’m still here.”

“Maybe that didn’t matter. You still died for a moment and when your dad took you into hiding, maybe whoever the benefactor is thinks you really did die that night,” Lydia muses as she stares at the dead pool screen before her. The symbols and letters all merge together in a constant stream of unintelligible nonsense. Lydia wishes more than anything she could decode it without disrupting the lives of others (ie Meredith Walker, who may or may not have officially went on the deep end because Lydia pushed her too far).

“Okay, so the list is made up of dead people?”

“That’s what we think,” Stiles confirms. Allison presses her lips together as she thinks it over.

“What about Boyd? Or Erica? Their names could unlock the list.” Lydia considers this and types in each name. Neither works. “Harris? Jennifer?” There are other names that both Allison and Stiles suggest, but with each one comes a feeling of helplessness digs into Lydia, burrowing deeper and deeper as she stares at her computer screen, teeth gritting together and fingers shaking more and more.

She has one job, and she can’t even do that.

Stiles and Allison share a knowing look.

“Lydia,” Allison begins as the same time Stiles asks, “are you okay?” Lydia presses her lips together. She wishes she were more like Allison. Allison is able to fight through her pain. Lydia crumbles. _All the time, Lydia crumbles._

“I just… The only other banshee I’ve met and I might’ve driven her over the edge.” Stiles is quick to come to her side.

“Hey, Lydia, it’s not your fault. I was there, too.” But he wasn’t the one pressuring her. He wasn’t the one who made Meredith feel trapped, he wasn’t the one who’d made her scream. Lydia’s jaw tightens as she looks away from Stiles concerned gaze. A part of her wonders if he’s only looking at her like that because she needs to give them the third part of the list. A part of her wonders if he doesn’t really care about her anymore.

Lydia doesn’t want to think about that.

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispers, more to herself.

Allison wants to help. She wants to reach out and make Lydia feel better. But she also knows that, having been away from her former pack for two months with no communication, she really isn’t in the position to. She isn’t really pack anymore.

But she’ll try to help, try to make up for leaving in the only way she can.

“Banshees,” Allison murmurs. Then louder, “they predict death, don’t they?” Stiles straightens at Allison’s suggestion.

“They do,” he says before turning to Lydia, a new energy in his movements. “Lydia, what if the third key isn’t someone who’s died but…”

“Is going to,” Lydia finishes. She turns back to the keyboard, closes her eyes. Listens to the whispers.

Allison gets off of Lydia’s bed, her feet padding closer to the desk where Lydia and Stiles are to peer over Lydia’s head at the name she keys into the computer.

No. Allison’s jaws tighten. Beside her, she can feel Stiles stiffen as well.

Lydia opens her eyes, reads the name, reads it over. _Derek._ What? That can’t be. But she presses enter and the list becomes legible.

It is.

Derek. The third key. Her heart twists for the friend in the man she didn’t even know she had whilst Allison and Stiles hone in on another detail.

“That banshee you spoke to, her name was Meredith?” Allison asks.

“Yeah, why?” Lydia asks, lost in her world.

“She’s on the list,” Stiles says. “She’s on the list.” Lydia looks and sure enough, Meredith’s name is plastered on the list with one million dollars as her worth. Panic hits her hard.

“We need to call Parrish,” Lydia says, “We need to call him _now_.”

**

They’re dead. They’re all dead. He didn’t know them, he’d never spoken to them, but as Derek looks at his kind, his brothers and sisters in a way, he can feel the crushing feeling of despair fill him.

They’re dead. They’re all dead.

He turns away but—

A breath?

Derek rushes to the sound, drops to his knees as he sees her hand reaching limply into the sky.

Braeden.

“What’s going on?” Malia’s voice carries from afar.

“She’s alive,” Derek murmurs. Scoops her up into his arms. Runs.

_**_

            The text from her dad assuring Scott is fine still bounces around Allison’s mind as Lydia dials the Sherriff’s station. Scott is fine. Scott is fine. _Scott is fine_. She tells herself that to help slow her heart rate. She tells herself that so as to erase the memory of his bloody body strewn on the road.

It doesn’t help.

“...What?” Allison starts at the broken word, immediately turning to Lydia. Her hand is curled into a pained fist as the girl’s green eyes widen. Something’s wrong. Stiles takes a step towards Lydia, too, concern clear on his face. After a moment, Lydia pulls the phone away from her ear.

Tears are in her eyes.

Allison makes a move to comfort her friend, but just as she starts reaching out, she notices Lydia steps towards Stiles. He seems a little confused by the gesture but doesn’t fight it when Lydia walks into his open arms, her face blank with shock as he holds her close. Allison watches the scene silently.

Like a ghost, almost.


	8. Thanks

Apparently, Allison has been taking stalking lessons from Derek.

Scott jumps a little when he sees her resting in the dark corner of his room. He narrows his eyes even more when he sees the red bag she’s holding in her hands. The bag of money that he and Stiles had just had a conversation about. Derek’s money.

“Are you planning on keeping this?” There is no accusation in Allison’s voice, just a searching curiosity that he can’t quite explain. Scott presses his lips together. He hadn’t even been able to answer the question with Stiles, let alone Allison.

“Uh… we’re still discussing it. But it’s Derek’s money and I feel we should return it.”

“But…” She knew Scott too well. He shrugs his shoulders and takes a step towards his bed, sure to avoid the corner where Allison stands.

“I don’t know. The money’s also Peter’s.”

“And you don’t trust him.”

“Do you?” Allison shrugs.

“I’m no longer involved in Beacon Hills activities, Scott.”

“So why are you here?” Allison opens her mouth, closes it again. Scott can smell the defensiveness swarming around her. She’s blocking him out. And it’s on instinct that Scott starts for her, his hands raising as if to offer her something, anything. “Allison,” Scott says, “you know if you need any help, I’d-”

“I know.” Her voice is like a knife, cutting Scott a lot more than he’d like to admit. “I know you’re the hero, Scott. I just don’t need saving anymore.” She meets his gaze with her hard brown eyes—eyes that used to exude warmth but now offer nothing but evasion and control. “Besides, you have your own problems to deal with. A whole dead pool of them.”

“So why did you come here?” He’s genuinely curious and can’t help the little bit of desperation the seeps into his voice. Allison rolls her head to the side and looks up at the ceiling. Instead of answering his question, the young huntress starts for the window, keeping her eyes towards the roof and feet fast. But Scott can guess why she’s suddenly in a hurry. “You were the one who brought me to Deaton’s office, weren’t you?” Allison stops mid stride.

He knows.

“I… My dad did. I just called him.”

“But you still helped me. And now you wanted to see if I was okay?” It’s a hopeful question, one with an obvious enough answer.

“Scott, you’re still…” She doesn’t know how to say it without sounding vulnerable, like she used to be. “You’re an important person here and it’d be best if you were alive.” Scott sees through it. He knows she stills cares about him, if only a little bit, and that’s enough to keep him staring hopefully after her as she swings open his window and prepares to depart.

A part of him wonders what she was first planning to say.

_Scott, you’re still my Alpha._

_Scott, you’re still my friend._

_Scott, you’re still the person I’ll always love._

His heart warms and a small smile (but a smile nonetheless) forms on his face.

“Thanks, Allison,” he says. She stops, one leg out the window and the other hovering over his bed. Her hair is a halo of brown around her, spilling passed her strong shoulders and the moonlight outlines her silhouette, one Scott still knows more than he might like to admit. He thinks she’s going to turn around, smile, do something.

But she doesn’t.


	9. Danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh a lil crappy but I needed to update.  
> This will start diverging from canon about now.

Stalking was never something Allison considered a hobby. But she finds herself quite good at it as she rests in the trees near Beacon Hills High. From where she’s perched, she can see right into the classroom where Stiles, Malia, Scott, and Kira all stroll in, pencils in hand and each looking their own kind of nervous.

Stiles flinches, like always, his shoulders jerking every so often, his head rolling to the side as he prepares to take the PSAT. Malia bites her lips and looks apprehensive. Though, this may be her general setting. Kira is more subtle about her anxiety but Allison can still see it. She sees it in the way Kira sits, all too rigidly at the edge of her chair with her back as straight as a board. As for Scott…

He’s hard to read. He wipes his hands on his jeans as he plops into his chair, but that’s about it. His face gives off no emotion, his body appears relatively relaxed… Allison tilts her head, curious. How can Scott be so put together? Sure, he’s not the same kid who almost got held back a year earlier, but with everything that had happened, one would assume Scott might be a little more worried about obtaining high scores.

A girl drops, successfully dragging Allison out of her inner musings. Suspicious… but it’s probably stress, or something. Allison leans against the tree trunk and proceeds to sharpen the blade of the ring dagger in her hand.

**

_“I guess what I’m trying to say is… I’m sorry. I wish I could’ve helped you.” And Lydia listens to the record spin and spin, spin and spin._

**

It isn’t until she sees the men in hazmat suits that Allison gets concerned. The CDC don’t just show up at California schools. She slides off her tree, ducking so as to enter the school through the side entrance before anyone could spot her. From her spot in a forked hallway, she sees more CDC agents walking down the halls, locking doors.

“Ma’am.” Allison jumps, hands in fists before she even turns around. All she sees is a towering man in bright yellow staring down at her. “You need to go to your classroom. Now.” Allison opens her mouth. Closes it. “Ma’am?”

“Uh… I’m in the testing room with Ms. Martin.” She doesn’t know why she says it. The man in the suit nods and motions her forward.

Allison doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into.

**

It’s weird.

Isaac hasn’t felt very much since he left Beacon Hills with the Argents.

But as he sits, keeping watch of Chris’s house in France, there’s this strange hammering of his heart. Panic.

Like something bad is going to happen. And he’s no banshee, and he’s certainly not a psychic, but maybe Isaac still does have some connections to his former(?) pack. He presses his lips together as he ponders the feeling.

To go call and see if everything’s okay… or not?

He ultimately decides there’s no harm in calling. The first number he dials is Scott’s, of course. He doesn’t answer. After him, he call’s Allison. She doesn’t pick up either. It’s when he calls Lydia that he begins to panic.

She doesn’t even have to say anything either.

Right as she picks up the phone, asking a tentative _hello_ , he can hear the sirens in the background. Close to her. Too close.

Isaac runs to the door without hesitation.


End file.
